


In From the Heat Chp.1

by TychoAzrephet



Series: In From the Heat [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Drunk confessions, Fluff, M/M, Shipping, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 18:15:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11995287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TychoAzrephet/pseuds/TychoAzrephet
Summary: This is the beginning of my Sansby series, as that might imply it will center around Sans and Grillby developing a relationship, and all the cuteness and shenanigans that will entail. In this first chapter, Sans gets drunk and chats with Grillby about some troubles, and after a brief lift home makes a sudden and spontaneous gesture to the unsuspecting bartender...Hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing, be sure to stay tuned for more! :)-Tycho





	In From the Heat Chp.1

**Author's Note:**

> (Note: This story will become NSFW at some point, eventually, cant just dole out the smutty bits right away now can I?) 
> 
> (Second Note: Despite the title of this story being “In From the Heat”, the concept of skeleton-heat will not be mentioned or implemented in any capacity, I apologize both for this disappointment and the fact I am rubbish at coming up with names for my stories.)  

The clattering of chair legs skittering across his recently polished floor caused Grillby to sigh under his breath, the sound akin to a bonfire caught in a stiff breeze, adjusting his glasses and turning away from the line of taps to face his restaurant. The interior of the cozy dive was dimly illuminated by soft glowing bulbs overhead, given that the fire monster was used to lighting his establishment himself, paying extra for brighter fixtures seemed like a waste. At this time of night, or rather early morning, there were typically only two monsters to be found hanging around the bar. Grillby, naturally, and his self-proclaimed most loyal customer.

Sans was facing away from Grillby with one arm resting against the bar-top, his other dedicated to causing the wooden furniture to dance and scuttle across the room, blue energy flowing off the skeletons fingers like turgid mist curling around the tables and chairs. It was a rather surreal sight, watching the beaten furnishings scuffle and tap about like they possessed life of their own, a trick Sans liked to show off to whatever patrons happened to still be conscious. Grillby watched the display for a few moments, eyes smoldering slightly in amusement, clearing his throat loudly to draw Sans’ attention. The skeleton slowly turned his skull to look over his shoulder, lolling to the side and leering up at Grillby with an inebriated grin, pupils sputtering with an unstable blue aura.

“h-hey...hey grillbz! check it out! i can plllaay musssicl chrrairs alllllll by mmmselrf!” Sans slurred excitedly, waving his hand in lurching gestures, causing the furniture to spin and dance with wilder gyration. Grillby repressed a chuckle and placed his hands on the bar, splaying out his fingers and leaning closer to look down his nose at Sans, spectacles reflecting the beaming light set above their heads.

“Sans...It’s quite late, shouldn’t you be heading home?”  he asked, speaking in a cultivated genial tone, voice crackling ethereally. Sans made an inarticulately dismissive noise, swishing his hand like an orchestra conductor, slouching up against the bar and curling his free hand around a partially drained bottle.

“psssh...nah, it aint...that late. only been like...what...ten hourrssh? ahm praa-tic-allyyy...teetotal ovah eer! whatre ya tryin ta get ridda me err somethin?” Sans asked with a dry, rasping laugh, tipping his skull back and downing the remainder of booze. Grillby furrowed what would be his brow and absently started wiping up spilt liquor, watching as Sans started nursing his empty bottle, merriment fading as the corners of his grin tilted dejectedly. Grillby rested his elbows on the bar and inclined his head slightly, flames sparking down the base of his neck as the fire monster masked his concern, eyes narrowing as Sans sank lower into his seat.

“Of course not, Sans. I’ve never needed to kick you out before...you always drag yourself away to see to Papyrus.” Grillby said casually, smiling assuredly to himself, mentioning Papyrus was a strategy he employed in encouraging Sans to cut himself off. Sure enough, the skeleton looked up sharply, face suddenly gaunt and chagrined. He groaned and slumped himself over the bar-top, mumbling something guttural and inaudible into his sleeve, Grillby leaned closer and raised an incendiary eyebrow. “Hmmm? Whats was that, Sans?” he asked, carefully extracting the empty bottle from the skeletons grasp, gingerly mopping up some of the spilt beverage near his skull. Sans’ pupils dragged themselves to the fringe of his sockets, staring up at Grillby with a pensive light, a dreary sigh slipping out from between his teeth.

“...i said...i kinda...don wanna go home to paps right now...” Sans muttered, exhaling heavily through his absent nose, dropping his gaze and missing Grillby’s incredulous reaction. The fire monsters eyes widened behind his glasses, raising a hand to cover where his mouth would’ve been, his flame equivalent of hair writhing in surprise. Sans had never expressed anything but an utterly glowing affinity for his brother, even during his bleakest most introspective drunken monologues, he always firmly asserted that Papyrus was a bastion of encouragement and optimism to live with. Grillby pulled up a small stool he kept for short breaks between rushes, seating himself to reach eye level with Sans, intently observing his patrons strange mood.

“Well now, that’s...unexpected. Have there been any matters of contention between the two of you lately? I mean, _aside_ from your well established aversion to doing laundry?” Grillby asked, smirking as best he could without lips, trying to set Sans at ease by gently needling his habit of leaving socks wherever he went. Sans snickered half heartedly, pushing himself up on his elbows and raising his skull, looking furtively around the room seemingly in a direct effort to avoid meeting Grillby’s eyes.

“nah...its nothin like that...me an paps are doin fine. its just...as much as i love the guy...hes _always_ on my case for goin here.” Sans replied glumly, lurching backwards in his seat and straightening his spine as much as he could, haughtily placing one hand on his chest and the other on his hip in a mocking semblance of the taller skeleton. “SANS! YOU SPEND FAR TOO MUCH TIME CONSUMING ALCOHOL AND ENGAGING IN THIS SO CALLED ‘PARTY HARD’ LIFESTYLE AT GRILLBY’S! YOU SHOULD FOCUS MORE ON YOUR CAREER, OR MORE ACCURATELY, YOUR DISMAL LACK OF ONE!” he imitated spiritedly, his normally subdued and quiet voice bizarrely dissonant to Papyrus’ bombast and perpetual righteous indignation.

Grillby laughed aloud despite himself, he had to admit that even when drunk off his bones, Sans could pull off a pretty uncanny impersonation of his brothers mannerisms. Sans’ eyes seemed to brighten a bit, corners of his smile tugging up as he listened to the wispy chuckling, settling back down to his previous lack of posture. Grillby rested his chin atop his hands as he thought of an answer, most of the time simply listening to Sans’ venting was enough to set things right, though their conversations were rarely one sided. This was the first time Sans had conveyed any sort of resentment towards Papyrus however, even as a fairly jovial parody, Grillby could tell Sans was genuinely vexed by his brothers attitude on the matter.

“Papyrus is a fine lad, I can tell how important he is to you, and I get the impression the sentiment is mutual. He has an...obtuse way of expressing himself, always trying to improve aspects of his life, especially the things he cares deeply about. It’s a positive approach to have down here, pushing the hardest for the things you love the most, and that means you Sans.”  Grillby said, trying to soothe Sans with pretty much what he already knew, Papyrus was his only family after all. Sans nodded a few times, placing his knuckles against his temple and rubbing in small circles, generating the grating sound of bone against bone. Most monsters found the noise irritating or even disconcerting, but Grillby had gotten used to hearing it years ago, understanding the habit as a comfort thing amongst skeletons.

“yeah, yeah i know...i just wish hed gimme less flak over hangin around here as much as i do.” Sans said, sighing and drumming his fingers on the bar, setting his jaw and shaking his skull. “i mean, its not like i drink here cause i got nothin better to do, ya know? if all i cared about was gettin trashed, i could just do that in the damn shed. i come here for a lot more than that.” Sans grumbled, the furniture around the room starting to dance less gracefully and more aggressively, magic automatically mimicking his thoughts. The skeleton braced one hand on the empty stool to his right, gesturing his left hand exaggeratedly, attempting to demonstrate whatever belligerent point he was working towards.

Grillby laced his fingers together and waited patiently for Sans to calm down before interjecting, eyeing him somewhat worriedly as the skeletons eye sockets flickered a brief blue glow. “he just...just doesnt get it, ya know? this is the one place in this frigid little town where i can at least try and relax. i cant go a hundred and whatever percent like him all the time, i deserve to spend a few hours around monsters who can actually get a joke, whats wrong with that ya know?!” he asked, voice growing tenser and more defensive, rolling his pupils and spreading his hands exasperatedly. Grillby drew a breath and reached a hand towards him, trying to placate the one sided argument before it escalated any further, jumping slightly in his seat as the skeleton unexpectedly slammed a hand down unto the bar. “uurghh! sometimes, i just wish he could appreciate what helps me get through the day, ya know?! hell, it isnt even about gettin drunk or crackin puns, i wanna tell him off and say the _real_ reason i spend so much time here is just to see y-”

Sans’ frustrated tirade came to an abrupt halt as his jaw snapped shut, light draining from his sockets and the animated objects he controlled clattering to the floor, resounding silence prevailing over the bar. Grillby sat stunned, eyes wide behind his glasses, staring at Sans as the skeleton stared back breathlessly. He’d never seen Sans get that worked up, and what he had been saying...Grillby wasn’t even sure what to make of it. The fire monster leaned backwards in his seat and appraised Sans warily, the skeleton frozen mid rant and looking rather shell shocked, eye sockets empty save for the vague panicked quivering of his pupils. As the wordless tension between them stretched further, Grillby racking his brain for an appropriate way to broach the silence, until Sans cleared his throat and let out a thoroughly unconvincing laugh. “hahaha...heh...ahem, uhhhmmm...welp. i uh...pretty sure ive had enough. think ill skip last call and...uh...yeah...ya know…” he trailed off weakly, rasping his fingers together nervously and lowering his skull, deliberately breaking eye contact and moving to climb down off his seat.

Grillby blinked, sensing Sans’ embarrassment and feeling a twinge of empathy, placing a hand over Sans’ wrist to stop him from leaving. “Sans...I’m flattered this place means so much to you, and you shouldn’t have to keep that a secret, I’m sure Papyrus would understand if you explained it to him. You should be honest with those closest to you, even if you’re unsure how they’ll react.” Grillby said softly, giving the skeletons hand a reassuring squeeze, smiling comfortingly despite Sans being half turned away. Sans didn’t respond immediately, he seemed to be frozen in place again, only this time there was significantly more conflict evident in his features. As if making a definitive choice, he turned back to face Grillby without actually raising his gaze, letting out a genuine chuckle.

“heh...heh, ya know somethin grillbz? youre totally right...ya always are. guess its just a talent of yours, gettin through this thick skull a mine. heheheh...well, id love to take off and let you close up, but i think im gonna have a problem walkin home.” Sans said, tone a confusing mixture of grateful and cryptic, Grillby raised a quizzical eyebrow and leaned a bit closer.

“Oh? And why would that be? I’ve seen you manage while far drunker than this.” he said somewhat jokingly, unintentionally dropping his voice to a lower register, skepticism increasing as he noticed Sans’ mischievous grin stretch wider.

“true, unfortunately, when it comes to pedestrian type stuff…” he said, letting the sentence hang and allowing Grillby’s suspicion to mount further. There was a sudden, abrupt popping sound that broke the silence between them, Sans casually lifted something into view and laid it on the bar-top. Grillby blinked, nonplussed, before sighing heavily and hanging his head. Sans snickered and snapped his fingers comedically, smiling ear to ear as Grillby picked up his detached leg in one hand, the skeletal limb slack with a fuzzy pink slipper hanging off the toes. “...turns out, i dont have a _leg_ to stand on!” he concluded emphatically, slapping the bar-top and screwing his eyes shut as laughter wracked him, wheezing through his teeth as Grillby silently walked around the bar to stand in front of him. The fire monster slung Sans’ leg over one shoulder, tapping his forefinger against the bone as he waited for Sans’ pun induced fit to subside, staring down at the skeleton with a long suffering expression affixed to his vague features.

“If nothing else, I appreciate that you didn’t pull this stunt with any customers around. This might come as a shock, but most monsters are somewhat unsettled by your ability to remove and reattach your ligaments at will, nullification tends to come across as ghastly rather than comically endearing.” Grillby said dryly, keeping his expression deadpan as Sans wiped away a bright blue tear from his cheekbone, mustering enough composure to lower himself to the floor and lean on his remaining leg. He looked up at Grillby with a self satisfied grin plastered across his face, the height difference between them doing little to change their dynamic, the fire monster unflappable and consumate to the skeletons persistent comedic antics.  

“aw come on grillbz, youre exaggeratin, monsters love that stuff. ive literally danced on my own skull before and everybody went _dead_ quiet they were so impressed.” Sans said, chuckling as Grillby stared down at him impassively, holding out the length of bone for Sans to reattach. Sans raised a hand and wagged a finger, cocking an eyebrow and smirking up at Grillby, shaking his skull from side to side. “nuh uh grillbz, im in no shape to put myself back together, guess youre gonna have to gimme a _lift_ home.” Sans pushed the offered leg away and spread his arms, slumping against the stool at his back and grinning at Grillby expectantly, leading the bartender to sigh heavily and roll his eyes in resignation. He leaned down and wrapped his free arm around Sans’ torso, lifting the skeleton up and slinging him over his shoulder, grunting at the surprising amount of effort it took. Sans was unusually heavy for being made of nothing but bone, perhaps it had something to do with blue magic, or maybe he was just out of shape. Grillby worked his way around the chairs scattered haphazardly across the room, reaching the front door and trying to manipulate the handle with Sans’ leg still in his grasp, huffing exasperatedly and holding the limb in front of Sans’ inverted face.

“Sans, would you please hold your leg so I can open the door?” he asked ruefully, holding Sans steady as the skeleton chuckled over his shoulder.

“sure thing grillbz, thisll gimme a real _leg up_.” he snarked, causing Grillby to run a hand down his face tiredly, holding back a snicker of his own as to not encourage any more leg based humor. The fire monster tugged open the door to his bar and stepped onto the streets of Snowdin, locking the latch behind him as he trudged out into the snow, pausing a moment to look around and take in the frigid morning. Snowdin was the textbook definition of a postcard town, his storefront gave the perfect view of the towering woods only yards away, swathes of snowflakes dancing and bouncing through the air as wind swept over the drifts. The neon glow of the sign above his head cast an solid orange aura over the snow at his feet, looking up at his own name emblazoned in such contrast to the quaint hamlet, Grillby wondered for the umpteenth time if it was a bit too...flashy for a place like Snowdin. Sans stirred under his arm, letting out a yawn and sniffing through his absent nose, absently picking bits of rock off the bottom of his slipper.

“thinkin bout your sign again, grillbz? im tellin ya, theres nothin wrong with it, everything else is way too dolled up in that holiday junk. yours has its own flair to it, its fitting, ya know? considering this place would have, like, zero nightlife without you.” Sans muttered, blinking and shaking his skull as an errant snowflake flew into his eye socket, Grillby chuckled and turned away from his bar to start walking up the street. Sans was always a staunch supporter of his business decisions, insisting that any doubts Grillby himself might have had were unfounded, the reassurances he gave so freely had been especially welcome when the bartender had first started out. As Grillby crunched his way through the frost, the flames along his hands and head shuddered as chilling winds swirled around him, excited by the change in air temperature and oxygenation. Grillby sighed to himself as snowflakes melted before they could reach the surface of his body, steam steadily flowing off of him as the winter seemed to recede away, it was something he was used to at this point. Being a fire monster, Grillby had never experienced cold, the concept had just never factored into his life. Even living in Snowdin, where frigid snow and ice were a constant, he could walk about town and the adjacent wilderness in his normal attire without feeling so much as a shiver. Sometimes, watching his neighbors and customers wrapped in layers of coats struggling for warmth, Grillby wondered what it would be like to feel something other than pervasive and intrusive heat all of the time. With a start, he realized he’d almost walked straight past the skeleton house while he’d been daydreaming, shaking his head and internally chastising himself. What a way that would’ve been to end the night, blankly wandering into Waterfall with Sans passed out in his arms.

Grillby approached the front porch and climbed unto the stoop with a huff, somewhat winded from lugging the skeleton slung over his shoulder across town, taking a moment to look up at the snowflakes twisting along the string of red and green lights draped over the large abode. Sans had been pretty quiet during the walk, somewhat surprising given how much he’d been drinking, Sans was anything but a meek drunk. Maybe he was just tired, Grillby could accept that easily, it was one of the things he and his best customer had in common. To that point, Grillby stifled a yawn and lifted Sans off his shoulder, beginning to lower him to the ground. “Alright, here we are Sans. Do try and get some rest, and please avoid losing track of any of your appendages again-” Grillby stopped mid-sentence as his head was suddenly jarred forward, nearly causing him to lose his balance. He looked down to see that as he’d been lowering him, Sans had wrapped his arms around his neck, leaving him hanging off the larger monster with only a half foot of space between their faces.

“grillbz, wait...before ya go i...i got somethin i need to tell you.” Sans said, pupils zipping sluggishly yet erratically as he looked up at Grillby, voice strained with something the bartender hadn’t heard from him before. Nervousness, his grin wider and more anxious than normal, Grillby thought he might’ve seen a bead of sweat on his skull. Sans inhaled slowly and let out a shaky breath through his teeth, agitating the thin aura of steam curling around the flames of Grillby’s jaw, steeling himself and mustering the nerve to continue talking. “whew...okay, so...you and i have known each other a real long time, right? heh, probably feels a hell of a lot longer to me than it does to you.” he said, chuckling sadly to himself at a joke Grillby didn’t fully understand, but the fire monster chose to stay silent and see where Sans was going with this. “look...im not perfect, got a _mountain_ of problems hangin over my skull...hehehe, alright, that one wasnt on purpose. but seriously, im kinda a mess. dont take good care of myself, can barely hold down a job, and i keep it all buried deep...especially the worst stuff. undyne, alphys, asgore...even paps. i keep em all in the dark, smilin and jokin like nothins ever wrong...like im always okay.” Sans said, tone quiet and drained, barely above a whisper. Grillby could see a terrible weariness flicker within Sans’ eyes, and with only a half a thought of hesitation, placed his arms around Sans’ waist to hold him closer. He’d heard Sans talk like this before, many times the skeleton had confessed to just how much a facade he maintained day to day, still it wasn’t easy for the bartender seeing him so forlorn.

Sans’ sockets widened as he felt Grillby’s arms wrap around his body, his soul pulsed at the warmth spreading through their clothing and seeping into his bones, dispelling the insidious and doubtful cold that gripped him. Looking up at Grillby, seeing the open care and concern in his fiery visage, Sans couldn’t help but continue despite his instincts to drop the subject entirely. “the truth is...theres really only one time i feel...i dunno...like the world isnt about to end for the millionth time. when im sittin in that bar, feelin relaxed and safe and free to say whatever i want...when im talking to you.” Sans said softly, able to scrape together enough confidence to look Grillby in the eyes as he spoke, catching a flicker of conflicted surprise in the bartender’s gaze. Grillby stared down at Sans, feeling a strange tactile sensation as the skeletons fingers brushed the base of his neck, physical contact with other monsters was a rarity already but this...was unlike anything he’d experienced before. Listening to Sans admit his feelings for him though, that elicited a more familiar stirring within his soul, a smoldering affection tinged with nostalgia. Their nerves grew more strained as silence dragged on, Grillby uncharacteristically at a loss for how to respond, leaving Sans’ emotional honesty faltering and desperation mounting. Just as Grillby drew a breath to speak, Sans tightened his grip around the fire monsters neck, tilting his skull and setting his jaw determinedly. “screw it.” he muttered, pulling himself up and pressing his face against Grillby’s, two lipless mouths rasping together in some approximation of a kiss.

Sans shut his eye sockets briefly and sighed as flames traced between and over his teeth, drinking in a heat and energy so much more alive than his own, his soul sparking joyously in reaction. Grillby’s eyes widened and words died in his throat, his flames shuddering at the chilling touch of bone, a fiercely draining yet exhilarating sensation racing into his soul. This...this must be what cold felt like, so utterly apart from what Grillby had always known, he likely would have have been more fascinated than shocked if it weren’t for Sans’ teeth locked into his mouth. As Grillby’s mind spun and soul shivered with a plethora of tumultuous emotions, Sans broke the kiss and opened his sockets again, looking at Grillby with a more genuine and assured smile than the skeleton had showed in quite a long time. “i...uh, i love you. a lot and uh, wow, that was...yeah. hehehe, welp…” he chuckled, trailing off as he let go of Grillby’s neck and dropped down onto the doormat, somehow managing to reattach his leg before landing heavily on his feet. Sans tugged open the door to his home and stepped inside the darkened entryway, looking up at Grillby with a strange light dancing in his pupils, caught between buzzing elation and anxious disbelief. “gnight grillbz, thanks for the lift home.” with that, the skeleton shut the door and left the bartender standing stock still on the porch, arms loose at his sides and brain still reeling.

After a few moments, he heard the muffled yet still distinctively loud sound of Papyrus’ voice, likely chastising Sans for getting home so late. It went silent about a minute later, and Grillby spent a long while after staring at the door of the skeleton household, replaying what had just happened again and again. Eventually, he turned around and began shuffling back down the street, still deep in thought as he turned the key into the lock of his bar. Before walking in and setting about cleaning up for tomorrow, Grillby paused and focused on the icy wind swirling around him, watching as snowflakes twisted along the tongues of flame on his hands. He thought about Sans, and that warmth sapping invigorating cold pulsed out from his soul, sending a shiver throughout his body. Grillby shook his head, confusion and curiosity besetting him at these alien sensations, stepping dazedly into his establishment and locking out the frigid night behind him.


End file.
